


Shadow of Death

by thedarlingone (Curuchamion)



Category: Star Wars Legends: X-Wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Deathfic, Feels, Forgiveness, Gen, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Introspection, Loyalty, Mercy Killing, Mortality, POV First Person, Remix, Suicidal Thoughts, Wes POV, background Wes/Hobbie, implied/referenced survivor's guilt, is Wedge actually lying? you tell me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 09:19:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16553090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Curuchamion/pseuds/thedarlingone
Summary: After Wes is bitten by a zombie, Wedge has to put him down.





	Shadow of Death

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [He's in a Better Place Now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16297928) by [icandrawamoth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth). 



> Betaed by camshaft22.

"Give me my knife and I'll do it myself," I say evenly, meeting Wedge's gaze.

He doesn't answer immediately. Just for an instant, I see a flicker of expression deep in his eyes, and I know. He doesn't trust me anymore. He can't. I'm not the person he knew. I'm not _a_ person any longer.

Impulsively, I whirl away from him and drop to my knees, my back to him now, my head bowed. The jolt sends a shock of pain through the weirdly pulsing deadness of my left arm, but I don't care. Please, please, if there's any mercy in the universe, just let him double-tap me in the back of the skull like the _thing_ I've become. I don't want to live any longer, not like this.

"Wes, please," he says, and I can feel the kindness and guilt in his voice coaxing me to stand up, turn around, listen to him. "Wes, it's not like that."

He's lying. I know he's lying. I know what I saw. If I look at him again, I'll have to believe him, whatever he says. He'll be gentle and kind and…

...I can't say no to him. I never could. Reluctantly, I stand up. My knees protest the movement. Good work, Janson: big dramatic gesture falls flat as usual. I turn around.

Wedge's hazel eyes are honest as a summer sky, no trace of the cautious distrust I saw there before. "It's not like that," he says again, and I can't not believe him. I know, I _know_ he's lying, and yet…

"What is it like, then?" I ask, aiming for belligerent, winding up at weary and helpless.

God damn the man, his sincerity is endless. "I just don't want you to go through this alone, Wes," he says, looking deep into my eyes. "Please. Let me do this one last thing for you."

Fuck, he never could do anything in a way that would spare either of us any emotional pain. "Wedge, you're going to beat yourself up enough over this as it is," I say, a last-ditch argument that's not going to work. "I'd rather do it myself. I don't want to put this on any of you." Hell, that's why I'm still here. I should have finished myself off as soon as I was bitten, but I didn't want to make Hobbie see that.

Wedge just looks at me, sad and pleading and expectant, and I sigh in resignation. "Fine. But if you ever get to a point where…" I shrug. I'm not good at sincere, and I never expected to be saying these words, and I don't really know how. "If it ever… matters, I need you to know…" How do I say this? He's never going to forgive himself. He's going to carry this guilt for the rest of his life, short or long as it may be. I know I can't make that burden lighter, but I have to try. "I need you to know I forgive you."

Wedge nods. "I'll remember that," he says, carefully not saying he'll accept it. "How do you want to do this?"

I shrug awkwardly, sit down on the ruined bed I was sitting on till Wedge came in. I -- my -- whatever's left, won't have as far to fall. "However you want," I say. How do you tell someone how to kill you?

Wedge takes out his pistol, warms the muzzle in his hand for a minute, because he's too fucking good for this horrible world. How can anybody be so damn considerate?

He starts to raise the gun toward my head. "Wait," I blurt out. It isn't my past life flashing before my eyes, but my future, the decades I should have had. I'll never kiss Hobbie again, never prank Wedge, never make Tycho laugh and roll his eyes. I can't -- even now, with less than a minute to live, I can't fully comprehend that _never_. I keep feeling like after it's over, I'll get up and walk out of here and go back to my life. What comes next? Anything? Is Wes Janson just going to stop existing? Even if I don't… it won't be _me_. How can whatever continues to exist be me if it can't interact with my friends? Is it just going to be wandering around, lonely, watching? If I can't talk or touch or help protect them, I'd rather not exist at all. Having to watch them grieve and die and not being able to do anything sounds like the worst kind of torture.

Wedge is watching me patiently, waiting for me to say something more. Is there anything more I need to say? If I keep existing, I'm going to think of so many things I should have said. Dying sucks. 

"Thank you," I say at last. Wedge is a good guy. He'll beat himself up, but he would anyway. Better him than -- someone else.

Wedge tilts his head, perplexed, that cute little crease forming between his heavy eyebrows. He doesn't get it.

"For not letting Hobbie do it," I explain. "I couldn't--" I catch myself with a gulp. _I couldn't live with myself if I let him kill me._ I'm still unable to comprehend that I'm not going to be living with it. Whatever happens next, it isn't going to be living.

Wedge nods. I keep my eyes on his, trying to put all the love and trust and forgiveness and thanks he's never going to accept into my gaze. I ignore the movement of his hand in my peripheral vision, the way he settles the muzzle of the gun almost tenderly against my temple. 

"I'm sorry, Wes," he says regretfully.

"Don't be," I say, still looking up at him. "I'm not." It's a lie, but it's the best I've got. I keep my eyes on his. As long as Wedge is with me, I don't have to be afrai--


End file.
